Open to: Jack/Nine
He was right. Of course he was. Martha needed to be Doctor Jones, needed to tend to the wounded, to fix what she could, and get through the next few hours in one piece before she could finally let herself cry for Tony and for Rose. That last image of Rose with the golden eyes, the Bad Wolf, it was haunting. And Tony. God, Tony, her sexy agent, who laughed so easily and let her steal his popcorn. What was even happening to them?
She buried her face in Jack's shoulder, just for a bit longer, taking a few shuddering breaths as she calmed herself down, taking comfort in the oh so familiar scent of that coat and the man inside it. When she felt that little bit able to, she lifted her face towards his, weirdly noticing just how short she was compared to him. It was fitting really, she had never felt tinier in her life. "We'll get them back." She echoed his words firmly.
"We need to find our people." There, action. Something concrete. "Find Becker, make sure he's alright. See if Guy's understood what's happened. And the Doctor." Her expression became worried. "I don't know this him so well. We need to find him, Jack. We need to make sure he's alright."